Snowforest Taiga the bottom's all i've found

set close to the border of whitebark stream
for @Kavik

The pack in the Emberwood is no more, but it seems a new pack has sprouted up a little too close for his comfort. When he first catches the mixed scents on the wind, it occurs to him that the pack could have simply moved — but it doesn't seem the same. Suspicion draws him closer nonetheless, gaze wary and searching. If the Emberwood pack truly disbanded, perhaps his father and Lainie sought refuge here; it's close, and a large pack. He hopes not, but he knows he has to find out. Otherwise it will only fester and plague him.
Still, fear holds him back as the distance closes, and he slows to a halt a few yards off. Dangerously close, but @Kratos's nearby presence gives him confidence. If one of these pack wolves decides to get all snippy with him for breathing on their precious claim, he'll at least have back-up. So he takes his time, lingering and watching as if the answer to his question will appear any second, without him having to ask at all (lol).

Although he spent most of his time watching over the den that housed his children, he did force himself to leave daily to patrol and find something for Grezig to eat. His patrol today had been uneventful, which was the norm and he was thankful for that at least. There had been so much sadness and uncertainty in his life that he savored any moments that were normal. 

But it seemed he had let himself get too comfortable. A familiar scent wafted by, and he froze. He hadn't seen Zephyr in a while, and he was curious how he was doing. It had been clear early on that whether or not Zephyr needed his father in his life, he clearly didn't want that. That didn't mean he wouldn't take any chance offered to make sure he was okay. 

He trotted forward, quickly tracking Zephyr's scent until he saw where he was lurking, hesitant and uncertain, near the borders. He stopped on the edge in front of him. Zephyr. He swallowed. How are you?

Magically, the answer appears. He blinks once as he registers the sight of his father, otherwise betraying no hint of the mixed feelings that accompany his arrival. I'm fine. I'm starting a pack, He responds without thinking, cold and flat, following his first instinct to show his father that he's doing good, longer the failure of the family. He doesn't need him, or Lainie, or anyone. With my mate. He adds after a beat, wondering how Kavik will take it.

He stared at Zephyr for a few moments, unsure how to feel or act. Starting a pack? Okay, he could get behind that. Kavik had never doubted any of his children's ability to succeed. They were all smart and capable, especially Zephyr. But a mate? Was he serious? Your mate? he asked quietly before his emotions really got the best of him. You're a child; you have no idea what it means to be a mate. How could have a mate already? Did you even put any thought into it? Or did he just impulsively rush into it like any kid would do? It was too soon. He was still the tiny, sickly little puppy nursing in the dark, quiet cave. There was no way he was standing in front of him, telling him he was mated. It was impossible to calm himself. He had barely gotten any time with Zephyr, and now he was telling him that he was someone's mate? It was too much, and clearly he was handling it terribly—as usual.

Somehow it's a little satisfying when Kavik reacts badly — but his words sting enough to erase that satisfaction immediately. I'm not a child anymore, He bites back, ears pinning. I grew up, and I can make my own decisions now. But I guess you missed that, didn't you? And that's your fault, his tone implies. Zephyr was a child once, incapable of taking care of himself and making his own decisions — but Kavik hadn't cared enough to try harder, to fulfill his responsibilities as a parent no matter how hard it was. The silver boy had learned his life lessons alone, and he refuses to take any from the father who hadn't been there to give them to him. Nevermind that it was his own fault.

His words cut into his already battered heart. The broken part of him wanted to push the blame onto Zephyr, tell him that maybe if he had bothered to stay put for once in his life that maybe they could have had a relationship. But when he took a deeper look, he found that he blamed himself too. He was the parent in this situation, after all. He should have found some way to change things and insert himself into Zephyr's life no matter where he was or what he was doing. Yeah, I guess I did, he finally said, he voice as hollow as he felt. Just—be careful, okay? He had made plenty mistakes in the love department to know how bad things could get and how much hurt there could be. I don't want you to get hurt. 

He deflated, far too miserable to continue battling with Zephyr over his life choices. Tell me about your pack, he said, forcing a small smile.

He doesn't expect him to give up so easily. Weak, he thinks, and it stuns him for a moment. He's never thought of his father that way, but now...
I can take care of myself, He says after a moment, a little less cold than before but hardly friendly. He's tempted to say more, but it's easier to shift the conversation away from the subject. He doesn't give his father the whole truth, though; only the parts that are convenient. Kratos and I got tired of pack wolves being stupid, so we decided to make our own place. For people who are strong and smart, or want to be. Oh, and Maman is alive. The thought occurs to him at random, and he's purposefully casual with his impulsive mention of her. But it's clear from the sudden intensity of his gaze that he knows the weight of what he'd said, and is looking for a reaction.

That doesn't keep you from getting hurt by the ones you trust, he countered. Just because he thought he could take care of himself, which Kavik was sure wasn't completely the case, didn't mean he was impervious to getting his heart broken. 

Kratos? That must be the mate. Kavik's temper rose again, but he managed to keep his thoughts to himself. He couldn't help but wonder if Zephyr was being truthful about the whole pack wolves situation. He knew his son, and he didn't think it too far fetched to assume he wasn't as innocent as he was portraying himself. He seemed very arrogant as he described his pack, and Kavik feared the long, painful fall to modesty he would one day suffer. But there was obviously no telling him anything, so it would just be another thing he wouldn't be able to protect him from. 

His thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt. Rosalie was alive? But how? How many of his assumed dead family was alive then? And the way Zephyr had said it—like he was telling him what he ate for breakfast that morning; so cold. Why was he like that? Do you have no empathy? he asked, anger getting the better if him again. That's not how you tell someone their mate is still alive when they've gone months thinking they were dead. He looked at his son as if he couldn't see him clearly.

The sudden switch back to anger startles him, but the feeling quickly fades into a blinding flash of his own rage, burning ice in his veins. His father is lucky to get this news at all, he thinks, just as Zephyr had been — but here he is complaining about how he'd received it. What did you expect, flowers and a song? What makes you so fucking special? He snaps, edging a step forward with a challenge in his eyes. I was rotting when I found out, poisoned by some dimwit who played with plants and thought it was useful. A guy I barely knew brought her to me. How do you think that felt? At least Kavik had been able to find out from someone he knows, someone just as involved as he is.

His jaw tightened at Zephyr's angry reaction, and he stiffened, straightening up to stare down at his son. You may think you're grown, he said, his words quiet but heavy with authority. But I am still your father, so watch how you speak to me. He had never had to speak to one of his children in such a way, but it was becoming alarmingly apparent that Zephyr suffered from a severe lack of discipline. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that. Really he was, and if he thought Zephyr would tell him anything, he'd demand more information so he could look into it himself. But that's not the kind of news you just drop on someone in such a careless way if you can help it. He sighed and shook his head, afraid that this was all just getting him nowhere. There was no parenting him now after all this time of Zephyr feeding whatever toxic darkness loomed inside his heart. 

Where is she now? he asked, tone softening some. He needed to find her, even if the truth would surely end things between them.

In some ways, he'd been itching for the challenge — something to prove that his father isn't as weak as he's starting to seem. And an opportunity for Zephyr to prove that he isn't weak, either. Nor is he a child to be ordered around. I don't waste time trying to play nice. That's not how it works when you're on your own. And if you want my respect, you'll have to earn it, He answers coldly, unmoved by the softening of Kavik's tone. Life never plays nice, never softens the blow; trying is futile. She's probably still where I left her. Past the mountains. Everyone's alive. They're just gone. Or, that's what he assumes. He doesn't know about Polaris, but it seems like the logical conclusion; why would she be the only fatality?

Kavik didn't need his son with a whole one year of life under his belt to tell him how hard life was; he knew that better than most. The last two years had been nothing but hard and cruel with tiny moments of good peppered in occasionally. But Kavik could see how broken his son was because it was like looking in a mirror. The only difference was that Zephyr responded with anger where Kavik had always responded with self-hate; neither way was healthy or appropriate, but it was hard to see that when you were buried so deeply under all the bad in your life. And to hear him talk of earning respect, like he knew anything about it might have made Kavik laugh if he wasn't so disgusted by the whole situation. That goes both ways, son. You can't go around treating everyone like shit and expect them to try and earn your respect. Hardship was really good at making you think the opposite—like you're just automatically owed something from everyone.

What do you mean? he asked when Zephyr explained that everyone was alive. Have you seen them with your own eyes? he asked. Surely he wouldn't just make that assumption and then spout it at him like it was fact. Surely he hadn't spent the last half a year drowning in grief over a family that wasn't actually dead.

I don't expect it from everyone. I don't care if they earn my respect. I expected you to care enough to try, since you've claimed to, Or maybe he hadn't expected it; maybe he'd just hoped. But if you don't, I can leave. I haven't seen the others, but Maman said as much — anything else? The last part is a clear push toward a conclusion, a continuation of his offer of leaving. There's little for him here; his father is refusing to follow through on the intentions he expresses, as always. It'd been the same when he'd brought Zephyr and Helios back to Swiftcurrent Creek, when he'd insisted the family move for their safety, when he'd taken Zephyr back to the Emberwood, when they'd talked about finding Helios. Even now, in this conversation, it's all the same; unspoken promises never quite fulfilled, half-attempts, empty threats. Everything his father has built has been left unfinished, abandoned to crumble under the weight of the world. Zephyr is tired of it all falling apart. He isn't interested in trying again anymore.

It felt like there was no way to repair what was broken between them. It solidified his greatest fear: that he was a bad father. None of his children were here. Lainie had gotten so tired of him that she took off too. And if what he said was correct, the rest of his family was off living a far less burdened life. Soter and Morena were so young when they were all separated, and he was sure now that they were better off without him. He feared for what this meant for his children here, but he refused to leave again for some reason. But despite all his failings there was never any shortage of love. Even now, with Zephyr standing in front of him, treating him like he meant nothing, his love didn't diminish. So with Zephyr's cold question, he nodded. Just one thing, he said, sad emerald gaze searching his face. I love you, Zephyr.  If this was the last time they saw each other, he at least wanted him to know that no amount of fighting or distance would change that.

His thoughts screech to a halt, thrown off by Kavik's words; after everything, he hadn't thought his father would still feel that way. He isn't sure he's ever been confronted directly by those words; if he has, he can't remember it. That alone softens him. The newness of it, the oddity of it sounding so simple and open, not secretive like he's always been with his love — it strikes at some deep, hidden part of him still untouched by the ice that has grown over his heart. Then come with me, He says impulsively, not caring in this moment how it might affect anything else.

The request took him by surprise. He wanted so badly to just say okay and leave with him right then, but he couldn't do that. There were just so many problems with that, the biggest being that he had young children here that he had promised to stick around for. He sighed. I can't, Zephyr. I'm sorry, he said, clearly not happy to have to turn down his son's request. I have responsibilities here, Kavik continued. I can't just leave. Aside from his children, he owed Artyom and Grezig more than that; neither of them had to let him stick around after he bailed the first time. Although, he was beginning to wonder if he should have just stayed gone.

The first crack in the ice. Hurt bleeds into his expression, and the moment of vulnerability prickles at him. He hates himself for caring about the answer — and he hates Kavik for making him care. For getting his hopes up like this. What responsibilities? His voice is sharp, disbelieving; what could be more important than his own child?

He wasn't sure how Zephyr would take the news. He had killed one of his younger siblings just days after she had been born, and he wondered now if he should mention his children here. He hated himself fort thinking that, especially after trying to make Zephyr feel like he didn't hold the mistake against him. But clearly he did to some degree, or was wary of him at the very least. But he was never one to avoid telling the truth because it was hard or because he was afraid it might push his loved ones away. Because the truth always came out eventually, and things were so much worse when you've been lying to those that are supposed to be able to trust you. I have young children here, he finally said. I can't leave them.

The second crack in the ice — no, a jagged fissure growing rapidly into a yawning chasm, a deep spiraling void he suddenly can't see past when his father speaks again. He feels breathless. So that's what you've been doing instead of looking for Helios, His voice is dull now, empty. He doesn't care that he's a hypocrite; he doesn't care that neither of them even know if he's still alive. Instead of looking for Helios, he'd said, but what he'd meant was instead of looking for me. Rather than face dealing with his defective child, one of the last he had left, he'd chosen to make more. To replace him — all of them. Good. You don't deserve to see him, or Maman, or any of them. They're not your family anymore. You have a new one, like you wanted. Stay away from them.
He doesn't wait for a response. He turns to leave, hackles bristling and eyes hot with unshed tears. He wishes he hadn't lingered here; he wishes he'd never found out about this.

He had no response to Zephyr. Because he was right. That had been what he was doing instead of looking for his children. Making new children and wallowing in self pity. Oh and ruining absolutely every relationship in his life. He didn't need Zephyr's condemnation to make him feel like he didn't deserve any of his family. So when he demanded that he stay away, he didn't argue. They were better off without him. 

He watched Zephyr leave, knowing he should stop him and try to reason with him, but there was no use. Instead he just sat there for hours after he left, staring at the spot in the horizon where his form disappeared. It was a familiar place for him.